


zuko-xi-buttshots.tumblr.com

by Nele



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nele/pseuds/Nele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU based on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/498517">Substitute</a> in which Zuko acquires fans and Jee doesn't like it one bit. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	zuko-xi-buttshots.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Substitute Arc I: Delicate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/498517) by [DracoMaleficium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoMaleficium/pseuds/DracoMaleficium). 



> Written for the first day of [Jeeko week](http://princebender.tumblr.com/post/59250660858/jeeko-week-reminder) on Princebender. This takes place in a wacky AU version of the ending of [Substitute](http://archiveofourown.org/works/498517), Dracomaleficium's modern Jeeko AU. In short, Jee and Zuko are living together, Zuko and his agemates are in college, and Zuko has been working hard to do something serious with his talent for physical showmanship. Do not be alarmed, this is nonsense and there's no actual reason to assume that Substitute will end with Zuko becoming a stage dancer. 
> 
> This fic is also in memory of a scorchingly hot gif that I saw on Tumblr once and forgot to save.

Jee is still at the garage and elbow-deep in a very greasy car engine when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket, so he can’t exactly pick up. He grins all the same, and keeps grinning as the phone resumes its agitated humming no less than three more times as he finishes up the damned filthy car. There’s no need to look to know that it’s good news. If Zuko had failed his audition for the new play, he wouldn’t have called Jee at all. He’d be off somewhere moping and convincing himself he was the greatest failure in the world.

It probably isn’t wise to blow half a week’s wages on a bottle of bubbles on the way home, but Zuko’s trained and trained and trained for _months_ for this. And fuck it all if Jee isn’t proud of his strong, beautiful, _beautiful_ boy. His boy. All his.

—————————————

“There were people at rehearsals yesterday. In the seats,” Zuko blurts out in between two spoonfuls of that disgustingly sugary cereal he insists on poisoning himself with.

Jee only grunts. He wasn’t a morning person to begin with, and now he never seems to get half of the sleep he needs. One of the downsides to having a gorgeous twenty-year-old to satisfy every night. Jee is half hoping that the dance rehearsals will get grueling enough to tire even Zuko down to a manageable level of energy by dusk.

The cereal is slowly turning to mush as Zuko keeps stirring it with his spoon instead of eating. Jee ignores him. If he insists on not having enough food before his full day of school and more rehearsals, that’s his problem. Jee’s not his mother, or anything of a parental persuasion at all. He really isn’t. Sometimes he feels the urge to tell Zuko to eat properly or to put a goddamn coat when it’s freezing outside, but he can usually kill those impulses by reminding himself of what the brat looks like with his mouth stuffed full of cock.

“They took pictures,” Zuko goes on. “The people in the seats. I’ve never even seen them before.”

“Maybe they want to scout you for their rival play.”

Zuko snickers. “That’s not how it works.”

He looks pleased at the suggestion, though, like he always does when Jee gives him any sort of praise, direct or roundabout. It makes his face come alive. He really is such a beautiful boy, and Jee appreciates him so very much. All his.

—————————————

When Zuko brings home the first small teddy bear, Jee doesn’t realize that he’s staring into the slowly opening maw of a crisis. The bear has a look of perpetual furry surprise sewn onto its face, and Zuko keeps mimicking it unconsciously while he explains to Jee that a girl walked up to him after rehearsals and just _gave_ it to him. 

His utter befuddlement at the notion that someone he’s never met might like him is really very, very cute. So is his outrage at Jee’s laughter. Jee decides to forego taking the issue seriously in favor of pushing Zuko into the couch and kissing it all better. After all, it’s not like he has to feel threatened in any way by some random chit’s teenage crush. Zuko knows who he belongs to. 

—————————————

There are two more bears in the following days, and Zuko is clearly getting agitated. Jee still isn’t really alarmed; he tells Zuko that yes, girls are crazy, and no, it’s nothing to worry about. It’s probably just one girl who fancies him, and her friends are coming with her for moral support. Girls do everything in groups, after all.

Zuko keeps mentioning that there are more girls, though, and he does it so often and with such forced casualness that Jee knows the brat is quietly freaking out. Jee starts wondering if maybe the chit or her friends really are that scary, and he should have a talk with someone. Wouldn’t want Zuko to be attacked by some crazy woman once she realizes that she’s never going to get any from him.

Zuko starts coming home with boxes of chocolates. He says that no, he’s not scared of the girl - and besides, this was another girl. Yet another one. They keep telling him he’s such a good dancer.

Jee agrees with them, but that doesn’t mean he wants them to tell Zuko so while smothering him in bears and chocolates. Not that he’s jealous or anything. So Zuko has a few admirers, why not? He really _is_ a very good dancer, and he looks so very good on the stage. More than good. One of Jee’s most treasured fantasies consists of sitting in the theater all by himself, nobody else around, just him and Zuko up there giving his all while Jee is entirely free to jerk off to the show for as long as he likes.

No, he really isn’t jealous. He’s sure of that.

—————————————

So sure, in fact, that it comes as rather a big shock when Jee goes to pick Zuko up from his Saturday afternoon rehearsal, spots him out on the pavement surrounded by twittering girls, and finds his vision going dark red.

He has to stop the bike a short distance away and take a few deep breaths. He’s being silly, he tells himself. It’s not like he caught the stupid chits blowing Zuko. They’re just… standing around him. Very close. All smiling like they’d like to rip his clothes off right there and then.

Fortunately, Zuko breaks away from the gaggle at once and comes trotting up to Jee at a slightly faster pace than usual, as if he’s afraid he might get followed.

“Thanks,” he says as he plops down behind Jee on the bike. “They’re waiting for me every day.”

Jee is still processing that when Zuko goes on, in the tone of someone who doesn’t want to be thought of as crazy but can no longer shake the impression that he’s seeing flying saucers over Manhattan every other Tuesday. 

“And there’s more of them every day. They keep taking pictures! Of me! They don’t take pictures of the other people!”

“What do they want?” Jee tries to sound neutral, but he has a pretty good idea of what they want. He’s had to growl at plenty of people who noticed that Zuko is hot piece of ass and were unwise enough to actually show it while Jee was standing right there.

“I don’t know,” Zuko whines.

Jee gives him a loving pat on the thigh before he starts the bike again. At least he’ll never have to worry about Zuko cheating on him. The brat wouldn’t recognize a come-on if it came in the form of a marriage proposal attached to a bouquet of red roses.

—————————————

The first thing he notices when he drags himself into the kitchen the next evening is a bouquet of roses, fucking red roses the size of small apples, thrown haphazardly onto the counter. There’s a pink card tied to them.

Zuko’s at the kitchen table, with Sokka and Suki, who always seem to have copious amounts of free time to hang around Zuko's apartment whenever Jee comes home wanting to fuck. They all look up when he comes in. Then they burst out laughing.

“What?”, he snaps as he drops his heavy jacket straight onto the roses. 

Judging by the lack of reaction to this vicious assault on his flowers, Zuko definitely wasn’t attached to them, or to whatever stupid giggling goose who pushed them at him. That makes Jee feel marginally better.

Not for long, though. There’s an ominous touch of lingering hysteria to Zuko’s voice as he waves his phone in the air. 

“Lieutenant, come look at this!”

When Jee approaches the table, Suki presses a hand against her mouth and takes a few deep breaths. Sokka takes another look at Jee and dissolves into stupid little giggles again.

Jee glares and gives the table a surreptitious inspection. They’re just drinking soda.

Drinking soda and eating from a box of chocolates that looks just like the kind you’d give to a love interest. It’s got little fucking hearts on.

“Look,” Zuko urges again. Jee takes the proferred phone and looks. It’s open on the web browser, and…

It’s a picture of someone’s backside. Jee wouldn’t normally be surprised, because of course kids will go into hysterics over butts and none of the technically almost-adult people around this table are anything close to grown up. 

But what he’s seeing is a very familiar pair of sweatpants hugging the planes of an absolutely gorgeous, squeeze-worthy, and _very_ familiar butt.

He looks up at Zuko. “Why is there a picture of your butt on the internet?”

Sokka shrieks like a hyena. Suki presses her hand to her mouth again and screws her eyes shut, and it occurs to Jee that maybe he’d been very unwise to let these people know that he can recognize Zuko just by his ass.

Zuko shakes his head. “Scroll down,” he says with a deranged little squeak in his voice. 

Jee does. There are more butts. Or rather, more pictures of the same butt - Zuko’s shapely backside in what seems like every pair of pants he owns. Many of them are grainy, as if they were taken inside a building (like the school gym where Zuko dances and trains), but close to half were clearly taken in daylight. On the school grounds?

“What the _hell_?”

Before Zuko can say anything, Sokka snatches the phone out of Jee’s fingers.

“That one’s called zuko-xi-buttshots,” he crows. “The other tumblrs aren’t this bad, don’t worry,” he says as he pushes the screen back into Jee’s stunned face. “Look, fuckyeahzukoxi and my-boyfriend-zuko are all normal pictures! And we haven’t found a single naked one! His honor is safe.”

“From his fans at least,” Suki snickers.

Jee shifts his glare to her. He already knows it’s useless to try and glower Sokka into submission. “What the fuck is this crap?”

Suki doesn’t look half as impressed as he’d hoped, and unfortunately, Sokka immediately pushes his stupid face in between her and Jee’s pathetic attempt at intimidation.

“Suki found one this morning! They’ve been going on for weeks, can you believe it? And we kept wondering where all those chicks at rehearsals kept coming from, we were about to organize a bodyguard detail for Zuko here, I swear.”

Zuko snorts.

“I don’t need protection.”

“You do from your rabid fans, they’d ravish you in the street and you wouldn’t dare shove them because they’re helpless giiiiiirls,” Sokka leers.

“Hey, I can hit girls!”

Suki nods. “Almost! Big strong man, you are. You almost had me in practice yesterday. Keep at it and you’ll be fending off the teddy bears in a few weeks.”

Sokka is doing his hyena impression again and Zuko looks like he’s about to regress to his misspent childhood and start throwing chocolates, and Jee decides he’s had enough.

“What the _fuck_ are these _fans_ and why do they think they can put your fucking butt on the internet?”

Three surprised faces swivel up to him. There’s a beat of silence. 

“Oooooh,” Sokka croons. “Someone’s jealous.”

They explode into a hideous cacophony of teenage mirth. Jee would have been glad to see Zuko laughing, all-out laughing, except he’s too busy keeping himself from becoming a child murderer.

There are people following Jee’s brat around. _Wooing_ him. And uploading pictures of his goddamned butt, the one that Jee fucking well _owns_ , all over the fucking internet.

And three spotty teenagers are mocking Jee for being pissed about it.

Okay, that’s not entirely fair - Jee has never taken a close look at the faces of Sokka or his little girlfriend, but he knows with absolute certainty that Zuko’s skin is a marvel of unnatural perfection, and the brat is no longer a teenager in the strict sense of the word either. But still. They’re _laughing_ at him.

“Out,” he snarls.

“OoooooOOOooh,” goes Sokka’s hideously annoying voice again. Jee has no idea how the boy’s mother manages to stand him. “You’re in trouble now, buddy!”

Jee imagines stuffing the goddamned roses through Sokka’s throat until he chokes. It must be showing on his face, because Suki suddenly looks a whole lot less amused.

“Let’s go, Sokka. Zuko’s got reading to do for class and we’ve got a movie to catch,” she announces as she rises to her feet in a smooth motion. She gives Sokka’s ridiculous ponytail a good yank too, and Jee revises his opinion of her slightly upwards.

“Riiiiiiiiiight, wouldn’t want to keep Zuko from his _reading_ ,” the oaf drawls. It makes Zuko snicker, which distracts Jee just long enough that he forgets to accidentally kick Sokka’s ankle into pulp as he walks past.

The door has barely slammed shut behind them when Zuko looks up at Jee, half of his face all scarred anger and the other the picture of wounded innocence.

“I can’t help it! It’s those girls, I didn’t know!”

Jee stares at him. _Very well, let’s play._

Jee glowers as he pushes his coat to the side to make room on the counter, accidentally on purpose crushing the roses against the microwave.

“You can’t help it. Of course. That’s why you’re bringing gifts from your admirers into _my_ house.” Technically, it's a flat, and half of it is being paid by Zuko - or rather the boy’s uncle. But that wouldn’t sound as good.

“Sokka said it would be a shame to throw out the chocolates.” Zuko pouts for a moment, but then he apparently decides to change tactics. He grabs the half-empty box and holds it out. “Want one?”

It’s really very kind of the brat to distract himself, Jee muses just before he makes a grab for the phone that’s still in Zuko’s other hand.

The device is already sailing through the air by the time Zuko shoots to his feet with an alarmed squeak, but it only lands on the couch at the other end of the room with a hard thud. Jee silently congratulates himself on not hitting the wall. Wouldn’t have wanted to piss the kid off for real.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Up,” Jee snaps. He doesn’t wait for Zuko to decide whether he’s going to obey or fight; he just grabs the brat under his armpits, lifts him straight up out of the chair - _Nice, old boy, he’s not exactly a lightweight_ \- and gives him a shove away from the table.

“Hey,” Zuko starts again as soon as he’s turned around. “It’s not like I encouraged them, they did it all by themselves, and…”

Jee sighs and conjures up his best disappointed teacher expression. It’s not hard; all he has to do is think of how Sokka used to clown around in Jee’s classes. 

“Why do you insist on being bad, Mr. Xi?”

Zuko’s eyes go glassy for a moment. His lips fall open.

“I’m not,” he says, but he’s stepping back and letting Jee crowd him towards the counter, like the meek little boy he most certainly is not.

_Oh, you want it, do you?_

He gives Zuko a chance to escape, a whole two seconds, and the brat delays his attempt _just_ a little too long. When he dashes, trying to duck under Jee’s arm, Jee’s there and ready to grab him - grab big handfuls of his tank top and spin him back in a smooth motion, bending him forward over the countertop and quickly covering him with his own body. 

“Oof!”

Not that Zuko couldn’t squirm out from under Jee’s considerable weight if he really tried, but Jee knows he won’t try. The wriggling that’s going on now is definitely three quarters foreplay already - hands scrabbling at his sides and pulling at his T-shirt, strong legs rubbing against Jee’s own, that lovely firm ass pushing up against his crotch.

“Don’t move,” he breathes.

Zuko _laughs_ , the little bastard. Jee tilts his head.

“You think this is fun, don’t you?”

The grin on Zuko’s face is answer enough. Jee smiles back at him, for a second, two, three, until the smirk gets a bit uncertain.

Jee leans in and gives Zuko a peck on the cheek. Then he takes the brat’s wrists in a gentle grip and guides his hands to the other end of the counter.

“Hold on to that and don’t let go. Not a single finger.”

Zuko’s grin flashes again. He lifts his left pinkie and wiggles it in the air.

“Or what?”

Jee slaps him on the ass, hard enough that the shock reverberates all through his arm.

“AUGH!” 

Quick as lightning, Jee grabs him between the legs, fingers closing none to gently on what feels like the beginnings of a lovely boner. 

“I’m going to need you to remind me what a good boy you can be, because…” He _squeezes_ , and the strangled thing that comes out of Zuko’s mouth is nowhere near a human sound. “…you’re really pushing it, brat.”

Zuko wriggles a bit, without moving his hands. He looks over his shoulder at Jee.

“I wasn’t laughing at you!”

He sounds so mournful that Jee almost believes him. Would have believed him if this had been the Zuko of a few years ago, who couldn’t lie for shit, but the brat really has grown a lot. He’s now quite capable of a vague untruth here and there. 

“Yes, you were,” Jee corrects. He checks to make sure Zuko is still watching before he unclasps his belt, pops the button on his trousers, and jerks the zip down with a loud _rip_. There’s no need for quite this much violence, but he knows Zuko appreciates the show.

And yes, Zuko’s mouth is open now, just enough to give Jee a hint of lovely pink tongue.

“Anything to say for yourself, brat?” Jee gives himself a nice squeeze through his shorts and reaches for the back of Zuko’s sweatpants. He lets his fingers wander up along one globe of that perfect ass before he pushes them under the hem, grabbling for the waist of Zuko’s underpants.

Zuko’s good eye goes a little wider in almost innocent hope.

“Lube in my left pocket?”

Aw, isn’t he a treasure. Jee grins so wide it almost hurts. “Right answer, Mr. Xi,” he says, and pulls pants and underpants all the way down to Zuko’s knees in one jerk.

The lube is exactly where Zuko promised it would be. Jee squeezes some out onto his hand without preamble, rubbing his fingers to warm the stuff up. 

“They know who you are, you know. They ask me about you,” Zuko offers up. He’s glancing over his shoulder like the little tease he is - these days, mostly on purpose.

Jee frowns. “Who?”

“The girls. They saw you picking me up from rehearsals last week.”

Jee is so preoccupied with the truly baffling mystery of why the squealing fangirls are interested in _him_ that he ends up shoving two fingers up Zuko’s ass without much preamble. But that’s okay, because they’re well-lubed fingers and Zuko rather enjoys a bit of a burn in his stretching.

“Mmmmm,” Zuko purrs as Jee twists his hand inside. “They said you must be very good in bed. They were really interested.” He says it almost conversationally, like he hasn’t quite noticed the position he’s in.

“Really now,” Jee says as he tries and fails to translate that notion into something that makes sense.

“Yeah.” Zuko’s grinning through the very fetching blush that’s starting to color his good cheek. His breathing is coming a little heavier with every curl of Jee’s fingers. “Sokka says they’re probably assuming that you’re great in the sack because it can’t be your face that’s making me stay with you.”

“Sokka says” was already pretty high on Jee’s list of least favorite words even before this. He’s glad that Zuko has friends in an abstract sense, but the brat really could be a bit choosier if he wanted to. Sometimes it feels like he’s associating with Sokka just because he knows the idiot drives Jee crazy in ten different new ways every time they meet.

Jee grabs Zuko by the back of the neck, so tightly that he could probably actually lift him from the countertop just with one hand there and the other buried knuckles-deep in the boy’s ass. He leans in so close that he can feel Zuko’s body heaving against him with every quick breath.

“We’re not being a very good boy, are we now,” Jee whispers. He gives Zuko’s neck a gentle shake, then raises his hand, flexing his fingers in anticipation.

Zuko surges forward with the slap, crying out even louder than before, and Jee makes good use of the space between them to grab his cock and position himself. 

Zuko goes still when he feels it, very still, and the little whimper he makes sends a thrill of power down Jee’s spine. He nudges forward just enough to push himself in a little bit, just an inch, so he knows he could slam in any time he wanted to.

He would, if the desperate whine building in Zuko’s throat wasn’t so good to hear.

“Come ooooon!”

Zuko wriggles again, either trying to kick his pants to his ankles or spread his knees wider inside the stretchy fabric of the sweatpants. The squirming turns frantic when Jee starts stroking his thighs, both at the same time, up and down.

“Tell me, Mr. Xi,” he murmurs. “Who’s a naughty boy that tries to make fun of the man who gives him a big fat cock to fuck himself on every night?”

“I am,” Zuko whimpers with very satisfying alacrity. Jee hums in approval and leans in to nuzzle Zuko’s ear.

“And who will never again rub my face in the stupid websites of his _fans_?”

“I won’t do it again! Oh god, fuck me, fuck me!”

Yes, he’s _such_ a good boy. Jee could never be really mad at him. At least not for long. 

And he really is doing so very well now in so many ways, and Jee is so proud, he really really is.

“And who’s going to be the best fucking dancer on that fucking stage by opening night so I can kiss him stupid in front of all his _fans_ and take him home and fuck him every way he wants it until he can’t stand up anymore?”

Zuko glances over his shoulder. His good eye is big and bright, shining with all that passion that Jee knows and loves.

“I will. Me. Me!”

“Oh yes,” Jee croons as he lets his fingers curl over Zuko’s hipbones and sinks home in a single thrust.

He knows it’ll be over quickly the moment he feels tight heat close on him and hears Zuko _moan_ , high and hard and loud, as if Jee just knocked all the breath out of him. Jee’s been on edge all day, thinking about who might be staring at Zuko while the brat prances around in the stage lights in nothing but shorts and a tank top that would be almost translucent with sweat in minutes. He thought of driving over to the school on his lunch break and dragging the brat into a bathroom stall and fucking him hard enough that he’d feel it all afternoon, that every move he made on stage would remind him of who he belonged to.

“Ooooh,” Zuko sighs as Jee pulls back, and Jee smiles when he sees that Zuko is still clutching at the counter. He lifts a hand to caress Zuko’s trembling shoulder, the hard swell of his biceps, the sweat on the back of his neck that’s making the hairs there stick together.

“You’re a good boy,” he whispers, kneading the shoulder in time with the thrusts that he’s trying hard to keep slow and steady. 

He really won’t last very long and there’s going to be a game on TV in fifteen minutes, but _god_ it’s good to hear Zuko moan like every stroke of Jee’s cock inside of him is the best thing that’s ever happened to him in his whole young life, this is so good, and Jee wants to make the most of it. He plants his feet wider to brace himself and take some of the strain of moving off his lower back. 

Part of him often thinks that it might get old one day, coming home to fuck this kid every day, because there’s only so many different ways to fuck and every relationship goes stale at some point. But Zuko is growing and changing so fast, so much faster than Jee would expect of someone who’s already reached the ripe old age of twenty. Somehow, the kid feels different every day. Jee is almost afraid to blink in case he misses something. And he can’t help but think that he’s part of this, that his words and his touches and his kisses are part of this adult that Zuko is building himself into day by day, and he’s proud. So proud.

Zuko’s hips stutter out of the rhythm for a moment as Jee hits the right spot, and his moaning breaks into a cry. 

Jee can’t form words around the way his blood thrums as Zuko goes tight around him, so sweet and tight, so young and eager. He kisses the boy’s shoulder instead and uses both hands to half hold him down, half embrace him.

“Good boy,” he repeats, breathing hot on Zuko’s flushed skin. “I’m going to fuck you hard, now.”

The way Zuko has to gasp for breath before he manages to answer is like a shot of energy straight to the brain, strong enough almost to war with the sensation of squeezing tightness around Jee’s cock.

“Can I touch myself?”

Jee inhales the scent of his boy, all sweat and arousal. _Mine._

“You can, but I’d recommend you hold on anyway.”

He manages just a few hard thrusts before his lower back begins to whine in protest at the position. Jee kisses the back of Zuko’s neck in apology as he lets go and plants both hands to the side to push himself up.

The picture Zuko makes is enough to make him pause, in spite of the furious throbbing in his groin and the racing of his heart and the wild instinct telling him to _fuck_ , hard, right now. The tank top is twisted around Zuko’s ribcage, bunched up where it isn’t clinging to the skin soaked through with sweat. The stretch of Zuko’s arms over the counter shows every line of tenderly cultivated muscle, all tight and quivering as he waits for Jee to start moving again. He’s trembling visibly, all of him.

Jee wishes he could take a picture.

“Fuck, you amazing little bastard,” he breathes instead as he locks his arms into a bracing position and slams his hips forward.

Zuko yelps and jerks forward as if Jee has slapped him on the ass again, and Jee feels his mouth curl into a grin of satisfaction. Then he really puts his back into it and starts fucking the brat in earnest.

It’ll feel even better if he closes his eyes to focus just on the feeling of his cock moving through that tight glove of heat and the sounds of skin hitting skin, but he can’t look away, he really can’t. The muscles of Zuko’s back bunch up with every thrust, sharpening and smoothening out again. Zuko’s making breathy little sounds of pleasure now, and he’s holding on so tight to the edge of the countertop that his arms are pure white. It looks like he’s going to pull himself straight off his feet and onto the counter just to give Jee a better angle.

And then a strong dancer’s foot suddenly locks itself around the back of Jee’s leg and Zuko shoots forward a couple of inches, fingers releasing the edge of the stone for only a second before his forearms come down again. The sound of his skin slapping wetly against the countertop is as loud as a shot in the room.

“Harder!”, he gasps, and if Jee was entertaining any notions of disobeying, the heel of the second foot that’s suddenly digging into the back of his ass makes short work of them.

“Fuck,” he hears himself exhaling as his fingers fly to Zuko’s hips and clasp down in a bruising grip. He looks down at where they’re joined and _fuck_ that was a mistake, he barely manages not to come right then. 

He’s moving again before he even realizes he’s shut his eyes. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ you, you fucking little _brat_ , fuck you…”

And maybe he babbles some more nonsense, maybe he’s grunting and groaning in a way that wouldn’t be out of place in a fucking nature documentary, he doesn’t even know - he just needs something to block out the sound of Zuko’s harsh gasps and moans. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself. Zuko will be reminding him of it at every possible appropriate and inappropriate moment for weeks.

Although maybe that wouldn’t be all bad. Jee loves getting excuses to shut his boy up, and Zuko’s twenty now, so he can’t _really_ crow about Jee losing to a teenager anymore.

And his balls already feel full to bursting and his blood is already singing in time with the movements of his hips, in time with the wet sounds of his cock plunging in and out, and Jee wants to let go. It feels so good. Best he’s ever had, it’s so good, and he can get more any time he wants so it’s okay to let go.

He does. He drops all the reins he’s been holding and tightens his grip on Zuko’s hipbones to a bruising strength and _pulls_ , slamming the kid down on himself just as his cock begins to pulse.

Oh _fuck_ yes. 

Zuko’s back arches like a bow, so far back that the tips of his hair almost brush Jee’s shoulder. He makes a garbled noise, and he’s moving, wriggling as if he doesn’t know whether he’s wants to get away or get closer. Jee decides the matter for him and crushes his hips down against the counter even harder, grinding into him _hard_.

“Stay,” he growls, somehow dragging words up from the small part of his brain that’s not totally preoccupied with filling the brat up with every drop he has. “Don’t you _fucking_ move, you… Ohhh _fuck_.”

Then Zuko falls back down, chest hitting the counter again. His foot is kicking back weakly against Jee’s ass.

“Oh shit, don’t stop, don’t stop I’m not done don’t stooooop…”

And now he’s looking like _that_ again, like he’s a shameless little trollop who’s writhing on a countertop with a cock up his ass and who’d be jerking himself off like there’s no tomorrow if Jee’s hand wasn’t on the small of his back, keeping him down and stuck where he is. 

He looks… 

Jee’s fingers are in his back pocket and closing on his cellphone before he’s even finished the thought. _I’ll show you a butt shot_ , his orgasm-addled mind giggles all by itself as he somehow manages to hit the camera app icon on the first try and points the phone down.

There’s no _click_ , though, and it takes Jee a very confused few heartbeats to realize that he’s accidentally started a video recording rather than taken a picture. Which is not what he meant to do, not what he wanted, he needs a goddamn photo to smush in the brat’s face. But what he’s seeing on the screen is…

He can’t even think of breathing as he pulls out, slowly, so achingly slowly that he’s sure he’ll be completely mad by the end of it.

“Noooooooooo,” Zuko moans. It’s _this_ close to an outright wail.

“I’ll give you fingers in a moment,” Jee susses. He’s too busy struggling to stop the recording. His fingers are so wet with sweat and lube and god knows what that the phone is threatening to slip from his grip any second.

“Now! Lieutenant, now!”

Jee ignores the demand and drapes himself over Zuko’s back instead, until all of him is flush against sweaty hot skin and damp fabric. He wriggles a little until his softening cock is nestled warm and snug against the arse it was pounding just a minute ago.

“Look what I have,” he says through his grin as he holds the phone in front of Zuko’s face. His hand is still shaking as he presses the play button.

It’s grainy from the bad light and Jee’s unsteady hand, and the angle isn’t the best, and it’s only eight seconds. But long, endless, heartbreakingly perfect seconds of Jee’s cock slipping out of Zuko, slowly and wetly. It looks as thick as his fucking wrist against those slim hips. 

The video cuts just as a white pearl of come begins to swell in the twitching muscle of Zuko’s opening.

Jee is already tensing his grip on the phone in anticipation of Zuko’s attempt to grab it and delete everything he can. But Zuko only stares, eyes wide, his pretty lips open and panting almost soundlessly.

“What are you going to do with it?”, he finally croaks.

Jee shifts his sweaty grip on the device. He’s feeling a pang of uncertainty now.

“Maybe I’ll put it on a _Tumblr_ for your admirers.”

“You wouldn’t,” Zuko says at once, but something about the look in his eyes makes Jee swallow the retort that had leapt onto his tongue.

He’s still mulling it over when Zuko finally begins to loosen his death grip on the other end of the counter, finger by finger. His hands immediately start to creep down, leaving trails of sweat across the marble.

“Play it again.”

Jee starts, partly because he’s surprised and partly because Zuko’s sharp elbow is pushing into his side while the brat is trying to worm his hands under him and to his crotch.

“What?”, he blurts.

Zuko finally gets a good grip on himself, and his hips jump against Jee’s as his whole lithe body shudders in relief.

“I said to play it again!”

There’s a touch of real irritation in his voice now, and almost without thinking, Jee hits the button again.

One second in, Zuko makes a strangled noise that Jee understands as pure lust only because he’s feeling the urge to do exactly the same. He’d shot that as a joke. Just to make the brat a bit mad. 

But Jesus fucking Christ.

The moment the movie freezes on that beautiful thick glob of emerging come, Zuko’s free hand grabs Jee’s wrist in a death grip.

“Again! Play it again, don’t stop!”

His other elbow slams into Jee’s side again as he starts to pump his arm, and Jee hits the screen with his thumb and quickly twists himself to the side a bit so he can keep lying on top of Zuko without getting beaten black and blue.

He does it exactly four more times, four times eight seconds of Zuko’s harsh panting turning into breathless desperate gasps as he strains up against Jee. He gets tenser and tenser, body hardening into that tight beautiful bow of frozen muscle again as he chases his pleasure. 

His eyes are riveted onto the phone as if someone glued the lids open.

Jee slams his hips forward against Zuko’s ass, _hard_ , and he bites the brat’s neck and growls in time with it. This is his. All his. Those stupid fuckers with their stupid blog things can stare at Jee’s boy all they like, they’ll never hear him make these noises and they’ll never know what it’s like to hold him when he shakes apart - like this, like _now_ , throwing his head back with his mouth open wide and all of him vibrating as he splatters come against the side of the counter.

He slumps back down after what feels like forever, breathing like he’s run a marathon in between every gasping aftershock. His arm muscles are still working as he continues to squeeze himself.

Then his forehead finally hits the marble as every last bit of breath seems to leave him. It looks painful, and Jee quickly slides his forearm under the boy’s head. Zuko makes a sound against his fingers, a soft wet whimper of bliss, and Jee caresses his lips with his thumb.

They stay like that for a minute. It’ll get uncomfortable soon, Jee knows, but right at this moment he really can’t imagine ever wanting to move again.

A loud _clack_ cuts through Zuko’s still-unsteady breathing when the phone slips in Jee’s hand and falls on the countertop with one edge. Jee curls his fingers around it again, then plants a lazy kiss on Zuko’s brow as he sees the brat’s eyes open.

“Want me to delete it?” He’d really rather chop off a finger, but he has to offer.

Zuko, brave beautiful boy that he is, shakes his head against Jee’s wrist.

“Play it again,” he whispers.

Jee lays his head down on Zuko’s shoulder and hums into the skin. Zuko’s breath is puffing warm against his fingers, so warm and soft.

Together they watch the eight seconds over and over again until Jee remembers the game and notices how much his back hurts. By then Zuko is breathing hard again and sucking on Jee’s fingers like they’re a big fat lollipop. Jee presses the phone into the brat’s hand and takes a moment to gently lower him to the floor, push the other hand down to where Zuko’s young cock is already looking very well recovered, and wish him all the fun in the world before he dashes off to find himself a quick shower and a beer.


End file.
